


kiss, kiss molly’s lips

by ladyladyladyladybird



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, Pining, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, brief mention of moriarty, but so is Sherlock, he’s barely part of the plot, john is just chillin, molly is clueless, sherlock wants molly, this is a mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:33:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26926648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyladyladyladybird/pseuds/ladyladyladyladybird
Summary: Sherlock Holmes tends to delete things from his memory. Molly Hooper’s new purple lip gloss however, won’t leave his mind.smutty, fluffy, angsty Sherlolly;)
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Comments: 12
Kudos: 68





	1. she’s a rainbow

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Sherlolly!!! I’ve wanted to write for Sherlock since I was 14, but er- well... You know. Anyways, now I’m a grown up, and I can write the all the smutty Sherlolly I please! 
> 
> This is gonna be fun! 
> 
> As always, none of these characters belong to me!!! 
> 
> 18+ content below! you have been warned!

Sherlock had certain things he frequently deleted from his memory. Molly Hooper’s clothing, hair and makeup choices were just a few of these things.

He would make note of them (often aloud) in the moment, but once he had a chance to forget, they would be gone instantaneously. 

However, when he awoke on this gloomy Saturday, he couldn’t seem to get a certain picture out of his mind: Molly Hooper’s new mauve lip gloss that he saw her wearing last night at Bart’s.

She often wore lipstick, occasionally a balm that added a pink sheen to her lips, but he had never seen her in a glittery, sparkling gloss. It was horribly glittery, he thought. Probably purchased as an afterthought, perhaps from the cosmetic section at Tesco when she was out for her shopping. 

He pictured her in the aisle, staring at their limited colour options, and grabbing the most shimmering, purple tube in the bunch. He unconsciously grinned at that. She did tend to wear bright colours under her lab coat, but she never ventured out into colourful makeup. 

Curious. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about this atrocious lip gloss? 

He rubbed his eyes in an attempt to rid himself of the thought. 

His mind went to the night before. She’d made a brief joke about how cold he’d looked. It was windy out, so his cheeks must have been a crimson shade, the blood rushing to his face in an attempt to warm him. He’d told her not to joke. She nodded and left the room... He should have deleted this already. 

But her lips remained in his mind’s eye. The gloss made her lips unusually plump, unlike the lipstick or balm. The odd violet shade clashed against her fair skin tone, making her look somewhat ghastly. 

These thoughts are useless, he noted. They should have been deleted hours ago. 

As he processed the pointless thoughts, he noticed something regrettable and quickly wished he hadn’t; 

He was hard. 

Dear god, no, not now. Not whilst thinking of Molly Hooper’s _lips._

This biological reminder that he was a fully functioning human man wasn’t something that happened as frequently now that he was 34, but even so, he was usually able to manage willing it away. 

Most of the time when this happened he wasn’t thinking about anything in particular. It was always involuntary. On the off chance he was thinking about a woman, it was a nameless one he had seen on the street or one on John’s laptop. He had never been aroused by the thought of a _colleague_ before. 

Even when he was a young man, there was never a particular woman or a particular fantasy. At University he had always overheard other blokes talking about which women they wanted to shag and how they’d do it. Most of the time, the bloke in question would be lucky if a girl even looked his way. 

Contrary to popular belief, Sherlock Holmes was not a virgin. He had slept with a few women in his early twenties, but realized that the sexual benefits did not outweigh the emotional costs. 

As John might say, he hasn’t ‘ _had a shag’_ since he was 24. An entire decade. But he is married to his work. That commitment is far more important than any relationship with a woman. 

But for some reason, he continued to think about the way that Molly’s lips looked when she muttered something under her breath, a frequent habit of hers. The pursing of them, and the way the gloss moved when she opened her mouth. 

No. _Stop it at once._

He was no longer 19 and spotty. He shouldn’t be letting his hormones control him like this. He tried to focus on his breath. In. Out. In. Out. Again and again, like a mantra. 

Nope. Still there. Still throbbing. 

There was no use in attempting to stop it now; he needed to take care of it. 

He pulled the white cotton t-shirt over his head and tossed it away from the bed. 

Lifting his hips from the mattress, he grabbed hold of the waistband of his pants and pulled them down his legs, leaving them bunched at his ankles. 

He sighed once more, and spit into the palm of his hand. 

Taking himself in hand, he began to roughly stroke, and tried _not_ think of Molly Hooper’s lips. 

2 minutes later he had covered his torso in his own seed, desperately whispering: _Molly, Molly, Molly._

  
  
  
  



	2. hook, line & sinker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock is an arsehole. Molly just wants to be loved.

If only Molly Hooper knew what Sherlock Holmes had been doing mere hours before. 

If only she knew that he took himself in hand and tugged, faster and harder than he ever had before. That he pleasured himself to the thought of her mauve lip gloss smeared all over his cock. 

_ If only she knew how he chanted her name.  _

Then, perhaps, she wouldn’t have taken Jim up to meet him. 

Sherlock was deep in thought as she walked into the room. 

“Any luck?” she said, smiling. 

“Ah, yes.” He responded curtly, quickly continuing his work, refusing to look at her. 

Suddenly the door creaked open. John, Sherlock and Molly all turned to the door. 

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t-“ the unidentified male voice started before Molly cut him off. 

“Jim! Hi!” She said gleefully, “Come in! Come in!” 

The man,  _ Jim,  _ gave her a wary  _ I don’t know if I should be in here  _ sort of look, but she just motioned him over. 

Sherlock turned back to his work. 

Jim entered the room, closing the door behind him and walking towards Molly. 

“Jim, this is Sherlock Holmes.” She muttered. 

He nodded, “Ah!” 

“And uh…” She started at John. “Sorry I-“ 

“John Watson. Hi.” John said curtly. 

Jim acknowledged this, but quickly turned to Sherlock. 

“So  _ you’re  _ Sherlock Holmes! Molly’s told me all about you.” 

Sherlock remained seated, looking away from the man. He’d gotten all the information about him that he needed already. This man was not worth his time. 

“Are you on one of your cases?” Jim asked, starting to pace around Sherlock. 

Sherlock remained quiet, as it was quite obvious what he was doing and didn’t feel the need to explain anything to this  _ man.  _

“Uh- Jim is in IT, upstairs,” Molly broke the silence, “That’s how we met!  _ Office romance. _ ” She chuckled. 

Sherlock wanted to punch this man in the mouth. He wanted to belittle him. But most of all, he wanted Molly to  _ leave.  _

He looked up from the microscope and from Molly to Jim. 

“ _ Gay _ .” he muttered under his breath, involuntarily. 

Molly‘s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m sorry- What?” 

“Nothing, erm-  _ Hey. _ ” Sherlock tried to recover, looking back at Jim. 

“Hey.” he responded, leaning to rest his hand on the table. 

He knocked over a petri dish that made a large clattering noise as it fell. 

“Sorry! Sorry!” He chuckled awkwardly, quickly leaning down to grab it. 

Sherlock rolled his eyes, looking away as Jim placed it back onto the table. 

“Well I’d better be off.” He started to walk out of the room. “I’ll see you at The Fox, like 6-ish?” He said, turning to Molly. 

She nodded, “Yeah.” 

Jim turned back to Sherlock. “Bye. It was nice to meet you.” 

Sherlock remained silent, staring through the microscope intently. 

_ Fuck off. Fuck off now,  _ he thought. 

After a moment of awkward silence, John piped in with a “You too.” and Jim left the room. 

Once the door closed, Molly started. 

“ _ What do you mean ‘gay’?  _ We’re together!” She chuckled uncomfortably. 

He turned to look at her briefly, “Yes, and domestic bliss must suit you Molly. You’ve put on 3 pounds since I last saw you.” 

“ _ 2 and a half _ .” she corrected. 

“ _ No, 3.” _

John looked at him, cautioning him. “ _ Sherlock-“  _

_ “He’s not gay!”  _ Molly protested. “Why do you have to spoil- He’s  _ not!”  _

“With  _ that  _ level of personal grooming?” Sherlock snarled. 

“ _ Because he puts a bit of product in his hair? I _ put product in my hair.” John chimed in, attempting to defend Molly and her awful taste in men. 

“You _wash_ your hair. There’s a _difference._ He has tinted eyelashes, clear signs of taurine cream along the frown lines… Those tired, clubber’s eyes.” He started, “And then there’s his underwear.” 

“ _ His underwear?!?” _ she bellowed. 

“Visible above the waistline.  _ Very visible.  _ Very particular brand.” 

Molly looked as though she might start sobbing. 

“That, plus the extremely suggestive fact that he just left his phone number under this dish here,” He pulled the scrap of paper from under the metal, “and I’d say you better break it off now and save yourself the pain.” 

Molly shook with sadness, anger and embarrassment. She dashed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. 

“Charming. Well done.” John scolded. 

“Just saving her time, isn’t that kinder?” 

“Kinder? No. No, Sherlock.  _ That _ was  _ not _ kind.” 

Sherlock shrugged. 

_ Fucking hell. Why had he done that? Fuck.  _

He never wanted to cause Molly pain, but it wasn’t his fault that she was dating a very  _ obviously  _ gay man. He thought honesty was important. And plus, the idea of Molly Hooper shagging a man like  _ that _ made Sherlock’s skin crawl. 

However, he supposed he’d made quite a  _ big _ mistake as John continued to stand with his arms crossed, frowning. 

That night, after John had gone to bed, Sherlock laid back onto the couch and lit a cigarette. A rarity for him, but he had run out of loose tobacco and nicotine patches, and decided to buy a pack on his way home from Bart’s. John shook his head disapprovingly as Sherlock walked into the shop. 

Molly was most likely shagging the bloke right now. How ‘ _ Jim’ _ managed to keep it up, he didn’t know, and did not want to know. 

_ Quit it. Quit thinking now.  _

He took a drag from the cigarette, holding the smoke in his mouth and throat, then slowly exhaling. 

_ She’s probably on her knees at this very moment.  _ He thought 

No, Molly did not seem like the type of girl to just have plain  _ sex  _ with a man.  _ She made love _ . She was sweet about it, gentle and loving and always trying to please her partner. 

Then again, he really didn’t know. He was basing these assumptions on her behavior  _ outside _ of the bedroom. 

For all he knew, she could be one of those girls who ties her partner up and tortures them until they beg for mercy. 

He sighed. This was not something he  _ wanted  _ to think about. 

He wanted to think about his case, about possible leads and deducing evidence. 

But no, he was stuck thinking of Molly sucking another man off. 

_ No! No, no, no no. Not again.  _

He felt his cock throbbing. An erection had formed and began to tent the fabric of his slacks. 

_ Now this is just plain perverted.  _

He could somewhat understand arousal from the idea of lips, but thinking of Molly Hooper,  _ a colleague,  _ kneeling in front of another man and bobbing her head on his cock? No. Too far. 

_ For fuck’s sake.  _

He took another drag, holding it longer this time, trying to focus on the burning sensation in his throat. 

_ Molly with her hair tied up, grasping at his hips as she takes him fully into her little mouth. Molly moaning against his cock. Molly beginning to gag when he pushes too far down her throat. Molly happily swallowing as he shoots his seed down her throat.  _

_ Molly pulling off of him with a slick popping noise.  _

_ Molly, Molly, Molly, Molly.  _

Shame didn't matter anymore. He  _ needed  _ to cum. 

He didn’t even bother to pull his trousers down, just unbuckled his belt and nestled his right hand in his pants. 

**************************************************************

It was a rainy Monday afternoon when Sherlock arrived at Bart’s. 

He had strategically come at 12:45, as Molly usually takes lunch a bit late, and this would hopefully land an hour in the lab alone. 

She was most likely with  _ Jim,  _ Sherlock thought, frowning. 

at 1, Molly came into the lab.  _ Damn it.  _

“Sh-Sherlock!” she stammered, “w-what are you doing here so early?” 

He turned to face her. “I could say the same to you, Ms. Hooper.” 

She placed her hands against her hips defiantly. “W-well, unlike s-some people, Mr. Holmes- I w-work here, and I am perfectly within my rights to be here between the hours of 8 am and 5 pm. What d-do you mean  _ early?”  _

“Yes well, I’d assumed you would be out for lunch with  _ Jim? _ You two really seem to be getting on.” He muttered. 

“Well, not that it is  _ any  _ of  _ your  _ business, but Jim and I have decided to stop seeing each other.” 

_ Yes! Thank god!... Wait… Should he console her now?  _

“I’m sorry to hear that Molly. Seemed like a lovely fellow.” he managed. 

She threw her hands down in irritation. “You know what? I don’t care what you think! He isn’t gay, and that is not why we aren’t seeing each other. I know you are a very intelligent man, but  _ god!  _ Sometimes, you are so entirely  _ clueless!”  _

“Okay, I will take your word for it. He is not a homosexual. Not that there would be anything wrong with it-“ 

“He’s not!” 

“Then, that is so.” He smiled roughly, nodding. 

She placed her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. 

“And for your information Mr. Holmes, I have lost 5 pounds in the past week.” She sputtered, turning to the door. 

“I meant what I said, you know.” He said as she opened the door. 

Molly turned around slowly. “What do you mean?” 

Sherlock was still looking away from her. “Domestic bliss does suit you. I think gaining a few pounds couldn’t hurt your figure.” 

_ Yeah. Shouldn’t have said that.  _

She whimpered quietly, about to cry. 

“L-like I-I s-said…  _ Clueless.”  _ She croaked out, leaving the room and closing the door behind her. 

Well, Sherlock had made yet another mistake with Molly Hooper. If only she knew the degree to which he wanted to kiss her, then maybe she wouldn’t see him as such a clueless man anymore. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. may the last long year be forgiven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock needs guidance... John is there to (laugh at, and) help him.

He needed to make it right. 

He needed to buy her a gift, or rather,  _ a peace offering.  _

What do you give a woman to say  _ I’m sorry for being an arsehole, but I am glad you aren’t with the gay bloke anymore because I have been secretly in love with you for the past 5 weeks _ ? 

Or rather,  _ I have been masturbating to the thought of your lips, and on a separate note I am terrible at speaking to women, please accept this gift as an apology?  _

For god’s sake. He needed to get his shit together. 

Flowers?  _ No. Too impersonal, and will wilt after a day.  _

A box of sweets?  _ Probably not a great plan, as you just very cruelly brought attention to her recent weight gain.  _

This was nearly impossible. For a man who could solve just about any mystery, this was pathetic. 

For the first time in his life, he decided to ask for advice. 

**************************************************************

“John-“ 

John put down the sports section of his Sunday paper and looked up. “What do you  _ want _ , Sherlock?” John said gruffly. 

“You can’t possibly  _ still  _ be mad at me for what happened at Bart’s.” 

“Not mad.  _ Disappointed.”  _ He said sternly.

“You sound like my mother,” Sherlock muttered under his breath. 

“Well, you know what Sherlock, you bloody  _ humiliated _ an innocent woman who is  _ clearly  _ in love with you!” 

_ Wait… In love with him?  _

“ Sometimes I just don’t understand how you manage to be so… So-“ 

“Clueless?” 

“ _ Cruel _ was the word I was looking for. You hardly treat her with the respect she deserves. She’s a bloody doctor, Sherlock. They’ve been known to be quite clever too. Consulting detectives aren’t the only people with a sharp intellect.” 

“But, about that-“ 

“Sherlock, I don’t want to hear you list all the reasons why you  _ think _ you were ‘doing the right thing’, because you weren’t. I don’t think it’s fair to Molly to be that cruel. All she ever does is try to help you.” 

“John, if you would just listen to me, you would understand that I want to  _ apologize _ to Molly.” 

“Well, for Christ’s sake! Do it then!” 

“You don’t understand. Yesterday afternoon at Bart’s, I ran into her…” 

Sherlock went on to tell John the exact words they had exchanged. 

“Bloody fucking hell, Sherlock. ‘Wouldn’t hurt your figure’?!? How did you  _ not _ realize that would be an inappropriate thing to say?” 

“I did not realize how it sounded until it had already been spoken, obviously.” 

“So what do you want me to do? Apologize for you?” John snapped.

“I am going to buy Molly a gift. I need ideas. What exactly should I purchase?” 

“Maybe a big ‘I’m so sorry for being an absolute wanker’ greeting card. She’ll cherish it.” 

“I’m serious, John.” 

“I’m sorry Sherlock but it’s really difficult to take you seriously due to how  _ poorly _ you have treated this woman in the past week.” 

“For god’s sake! I  _ care _ about Molly Hooper! It may not seem like it to you, as I have a very  _ ‘different’ _ way of expressing affection, but I truly, deeply care for her!” Sherlock shouted, losing all patience with John.

There was a brief silence as John took in Sherlock’s statement, looking back and forth from his hands to Sherlock’s face.

“...  _ You are being serious,”  _ John whispered. 

“Yes, well.” Sherlock’s face was flushed.

John’s eyes widened. “Y-you’re… You’re in love with her!” 

“I am nothing of the sort! I just care for her emotional and physical wellbeing, is all.” 

“You are  _ such _ a tosser, mate.” John chuckled. 

“Do not call me a ‘ _ tosser’. You’re a doctor.  _ I’m quite sure you could come up with a more intelligent insult.” 

“Nope. Tosser will do.” 

“And why is that?” 

“Because you bloody don’t understand  _ anything  _ when it comes to women! Or even relationships at that!” 

“I understand women-“ 

_ No, no he didn’t _

“You clearly do not.” John interrupted. 

“Fine, Watson! I love her! Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

“ _ God!  _ So you actually  _ do!”  _ John gaped.

Sherlock scoffed. “I was  _ obviously _ just trying to get you to shut up.”

“Sherlock Holmes,  _ in love?  _ I never thought I'd see the day! This is the most joyous occasion, wouldn’t you say? My god. Sherlock Holmes is capable of love! Phone the press immediately!” 

“Fuck off.” 

John had begun to laugh hysterically 

“Sherlock Holmes so hopelessly in love that he tells me to ‘ _ fuck off’?  _ Ah! Tremendous! Mate, you really must be head over heels… You really do love her.” 

“Seriously John, please fuck off and help me think of a gift to buy for her.” 

“God, I didn’t even know this was  _ possible!  _ You want to have children with her, don’t you? Have you got the names picked out? Ha!” John chuckled, “Sherlock Holmes,  _ in love. With children and a wife… My god!”  _

“What is it you say, John? “Quit taking the piss”?”

“Oi, alright, alright. I’ll help you, Sherlock.” John said breathlessly, trying to get control of his laughter.

  
  



	4. there she goes, my beautiful world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh my oh my! I had a hard time writing this chapter... But don’t worry- unrequited love will soon be, well... Love! 
> 
> thank you for reading... hope you enjoy! 
> 
> xxx

Nothing could logically explain why Sherlock Holmes was at the door of her flat at 11 pm on a Thursday night. 

Well, maybe he needed her to get him into the morgue, or provide a body part, or maybe an entire corpse, or… 

No, if he needed any of those things he would have already stormed past her and started talking. 

But he just stood there, as she looked at him, dumbfounded. 

“ _ Molly?”  _

She jumped instinctively. “Wh-what?” 

“I have been speaking to you for the past 20 seconds and you haven’t responded to me.” 

“I-I’m sorry, I’m a bit- never mind. What were you saying?” She stammered, suddenly realizing she was only dressed in a slip and a black silk robe with no bra.  _ Fuck.  _

“I said, I came here to apologize. May I come in?” 

He was still waiting at the doorstep, not shoving past her. 

“Y-yes, yes! Of course. I’m sorry, you must be freezing.” 

Molly quickly tried to cover up more, crossing her arms around her body to cover the hardening peaks of her nipples. 

“Erm- Sherlock, could you excuse me a moment?” She said hurriedly, already turning towards her bedroom. 

He didn’t respond, just looked at her,  _ deducing.  _

Goddamn it. 

“Um- make yourself at home… Take a seat. I’ll only be a minute!” she called out as she closed the door of her bedroom. 

_ Bloody fucking fuck. Wanker.  _

Why did Sherlock Holmes have to show up in the middle of the night? Oh  _ fuck!  _

She was fairly certain she did  _ not  _ pause the DVD of ‘Sense and Sensibility’, and that Sherlock was most likely watching it at this very moment. As he sat on her sofa. That she told him to sit on. Fuck. 

_ Annnd,  _ she  _ definitely  _ left out the container of cherry chocolate ice cream on the coffee table. Spoon still in it. 

Okay, okay,  _ think,  _ Molly! You came into your bed for a reason… Bra. Cardigan.  _ Something  _ to cover up. 

5 minutes later than she’d promised, she was out of her bedroom dressed in a black camisole, lacy blue bralette, black joggers and an oversized grey cardigan. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting…” She said sheepishly from behind him as he sat on the sofa. 

He quickly turned around and again, looked her up and down… More bloody deducing. 

It was too late to return the ice cream to the freezer, and she couldn’t see the bloody remote, so there was no way she could turn the telly off without causing a scene.  _ Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.  _

Thank  _ god  _ she turned down the volume when he knocked. 

“Cold?” He inquired, eyebrows raised, eyes squinting. 

“I-I’m sorry?” She stammered, quickly crossing her arms to her chest again. There is  _ no way  _ he could see her nipples through this, right? She wasn’t certain. 

“You changed clothes. You were wearing much less when I arrived. I assume you were cold, as you mentioned how low the temperature was outside when I came into your flat.” 

“Ah, yes. Yeah.” She nodded desperately. Hopefully he couldn’t see through her actual reasoning. 

She made her way over to the chair across from the sofa, and sat cautiously. 

“Sherlock?” 

“ _ Molly?”  _

Why did he have to be so bloody  _ cheeky  _ without even trying? 

“W-why have you shown up to my flat so late?” 

He sighed, in what seemed like annoyance, but then again Sherlock Holmes  _ always  _ seemed annoyed when he spoke to other human beings. 

“As I said in the doorway, I came to apologize. I treated you poorly and misjudged the situation with you and Moriarty-“ 

“ _ Moriarty?”  _

_ “Jim.  _ As I was saying,” he crossed and uncrossed his legs, seemingly uncomfortable. “I had no business intruding in your personal life. I was cruel, and I am sorry.” He said in a pained voice. 

Molly had  _ never  _ heard him apologize. Not even to John. This was probably the most difficult thing he had ever done. 

But still, she felt a sting in her chest. She was mad.  _ Furious,  _ even. Sherlock treated her like shit. He has made her cry so many times, she can’t even keep track.  _ If only he knew…  _

_ If he knew how she fantasized about his lips against hers, pulling her in and enveloping her with his large stature. Holding her, taking her, making her his own.  _

Part of her wanted to smack him. A bigger part of her wanted to snog him until her lips bled. 

But she sat there, staring at him, convinced she was having some sort of sick dream. 

“Molly?” 

That was the third time he said her name like that. Questioning. Inquiring whether or not she had been listening.  _ Dear god, she was always listening to him.  _

“Y-yes. I’m sorry. I-I mean- that is very kind of you Sherlock. Thank you. I accept your apology.” 

Before she knew what had happened, he was holding out a small, meticulously wrapped box. 

“This is for you,” he said, handing it to her with the tiniest hint of a smile. 

“Oh? Sherlock,” she took it from his large hands, and into her much smaller ones. “Erm- you didn’t have to do that-“ she started, only to be interrupted. 

“Well, I must be off.” He stood from the sofa, adjusting his coat. “Thank you for inviting me into your home, Molly.” 

He started to walk towards the door. 

“Have a good evening.” he said, closing the door behind him.”

And just as soon as he was there, he was gone. 

Molly sat there, completely confused and convinced she was either dead, or asleep. 

But there it was, in her trembling hands. The box. 

It was no bigger than her palm, wrapped in a deep blue paper with gold dots. 

_ This had to be a bloody nightmare.  _

Quickly, before she had a chance to wake up, she tore the paper from the box. 

It was lined in red velvet, and had a small hinge.  _ A jewelry box?  _

She opened it cautiously. 

A note. 

“ _ My dearest Molly,  _

_ Please forgive me.  _

_ You are the loveliest woman I have ever had the privilege of meeting.  _

_ Yours,  _

_ Sherlock Holmes.”  _

  
  


What. The.  _ Fuck.  _

  
  
  
  



	5. what’s the name of the game?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a short one while i finish off *ahem* the, *ahem*, ‘climax’ of the story... ;) 
> 
> hope you enjoy <3 
> 
> ps, john watson referring to sherlock holmes as a ‘cock’ brings me great joy

The door of 221B Baker Street slammed loudly, and the sound of Sherlock Holmes storming up the stairs filled the entire flat. 

“John!” he bellowed, pushing his way into the flat. “JOHN!” 

“Oi!” John shouted from his bedroom. He had been fast asleep, but the sound of Sherlock screaming had awoken him in an instant. 

“Get in here!  _ Now!”  _ Sherlock growled, pacing back and forth rapidly. 

John emerged from his bedroom dressed only in grey t-shirt and black boxers, hair disheveled, rubbing his eyes. 

“For fuck’s sake! What on earth are you bloody screaming for?! It’s 1 in the morning, you cock!” John said in a hushed shout. “I was asleep!” 

Sherlock was still pacing, hands pulling at his hair. 

“I went to Molly’s!” He shouted back, louder than before. 

John stood there, hands on his hips, shaking his head. 

“ _ And?!”  _

“And- and-  _ argh! Fuck! I- I need-“  _

“Mate, you’re really starting to piss me off. Would you fucking spit it out?” John barked. 

_ “I need tea! _ ” 

“What are you?! 14 years old!? You are bloody well capable of making tea, you wanker! I am  _ not  _ your bloody goddamn mother!” John screamed back. He had officially lost his patience. 

15 minutes later, John came out of the kitchen with two mugs of tea and a plate of biscuits. 

Sherlock finally sat, (after John’s  _ minor  _ outburst,) head buried in his hands, hastily shaking his right leg. 

John set down the tea and biscuits, and sat, defeated. 

“ _ Alright?”  _ John said, grabbing Sherlock’s mug from the table, and holding it out, offering it to him. 

Sherlock nodded, taking the mug with both of his hands. 

“So…” John started, cautiously this time. “You said you went to Molly’s.” 

Sherlock snarled at him. “ _ Obviously _ .” 

“So what? Is this the part where you tell me you shagged and it was awful and we can never go back to Bart’s again, and I have to find a new hospital immediately? 

Because, honestly, I’m not sure I want to have a conversation with hospital staff that includes details on why  _ you _ need access to corpses so frequently-“ 

“No, goddamn it. Nothing happened, John!” Sherlock snapped at him, slamming his free hand onto his thigh. 

“Then  _ what on earth  _ has you bloody screaming at 1 am on a  _ Thursday  _ night mate?” 

“Technically, it is Friday morning.” 

“Are we really gonna do this now Sherlock?” 

“Do  _ what _ ?” 

“Blatantly ignore your feelings to have a debate on what specifies morning and night?” 

“ _ No _ , John.” 

“So, quit acting like a prat and tell me what happened!” 

Sherlock frowned. “I showed up at her flat, told her I needed to apologize to her, but she wasn’t listening at first.” 

“I got her attention again, and she let me in. But immediately excused herself to her bedroom to change. She told me to sit on the sofa, so I did. Sense and Sensibility was playing on the television, and it took her 6 minutes to come back out.” 

“ _ and?!”  _

_ “ _ And nothing. Once she came back out I apologized, she accepted, and I handed her the gift.” 

“What? Oh god, don’t tell me you just  _ walked out  _ after giving her the gift Sherlock!” 

“I figured it would be inappropriate to stay, seeing as it was so late at night.”

“Christ, Sherlock…Why didn’t you stay and speak to her?” 

“I don’t  _ know _ !” He huffed, standing from his chair. 

“Look mate, I know Molly likes you. And the necklace is beautiful… I am sure she will be pleased. Especially considering you finally apologized for your behavior…” John sighed. 

“It’ll be okay Sherlock.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
